How to Save a Life Extended Edition
by N. R. Crow
Summary: When Sonny's sister commits suicide, her life starts to get out of control. There's only one person that can save her, but is she willing ot even let him try? Or will she take her life into her uncapable hands. Based off of the song 'How to Save a Life'.
1. Chapter 1

The rain poured heavily in the night sky, thunder and lightning in its pursuit. But that was the last thing on Katrina Monroe's mind. She finished what she was writing and stood up, looking around one last time. When her lip quivered, she knew she had to hurry, because if she didn't, she'd give up on giving up. When she stepped outside, she didn't mind getting wet. She ignored the seeping cold that somehow made its way through her multiple sweaters. Her shivers meant nothing to her. The only thought in her mind was _'get to the bridge, Katrina. Just get to the bridge and it'll all be over…'_.

Her heart thumped loudly in her fear, but she wasn't afraid of what she was about to do. No, she was afraid of how her parents would react. And her sister. Sonny was only the best little sister a girl could have. Nothing could shut up the little monster. It made Katrina smile, thinking of playing with her twelve year old sister. But it also made her cry, like her tears wanted to join the rain that was streaming down her pale face.

The therapist had been no help to her. She told him everything.

"I feel like I'm slowly dying… but from the inside. Like I'm fading away from this world." She remembered telling him.

That was on her first visit; the visit where she was diagnosed Melancholic Depression. The therapist told her that was the reason she had lost interest in singing. It was the reason she no longer felt like watching her crush, Aidan. And now, she was sick of living. She was tired of it.

The cuts on her wrists were getting deeper. They were also harder and harder to hide from her family. Her mother was starting to get curious about her daughter, wondering why she was never hungry, why she rarely talked. But tomorrow morning, her mother would know, as would her father. Katrina didn't expect Sonny to understand it yet. How could she? She was only a little girl after all.

The old wooden bridge was in sight after a few minutes of walking. She could already hear the water rushing, flooded because of the constant rain. But she had planned it like this. Everything was going according to the plan. When her muddy boots hit the bridge, a loud _thump_ sound echoed in the silence, making her flinch slightly.

When she was in the middle of the bridge, she froze, closing her eyes, letting a few more tears escape before brushing them away with her wet sleeve, only smearing the tears around instead.

Her wrists still hurt from today's cutting. The cuts were worse than ever, dripping more blood than Katrina thought possible. It made her weak, but still, she had enough strength to climb up and over the wooden railing, so she was facing the water. The rushing waves echoed into her ears as she closed her eyes, inviting her to join them.

She was eager to join them. With one last breath, she turned around and spread her arms out, letting herself fall. When her back hit the water, she knew it was over. She didn't' struggle; she didn't fight. The waves grew stronger, dragging her to the bottom. And slowly, ever so slowly, her breath left her, until she had no more oxygen left. Her limp body was carried with the waves, tossed around like a doll.

Sixteen years proved to be too much for Katrina Elizabeth Monroe.

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**A/N= This is a story I'm actually working on. Like a book story. I've only changed the names and stuff. Anyways, tell me what you think! Please review! :D**


	2. Chapter 2

"Depression is not sobbing and crying and giving vent. It is the plain and simple reduction of feeling."

The loud crack of glass echoed through the otherwise silent car. Katrina's face slowly faded from the cracked window, almost exactly how she faded away from my life. Katrina's face continued to haunt me since her death. Whenever I could see my own forlorn figure, she seemed to be right there next to me. I could see so much of my sister in me, it actually hurt to stare in a mirror. But it wasn't physical, like the pain in my now bloody hand. I guess punching the window wasn't the best way to get rid of her memory.

"Katrina!" My mother shouted from the front of the car as my father slammed on the brakes. I had been too distracted by Katrina's face to strap my seatbelt on, so as the car lurched forward, my body slammed into the seat in front of me.

But the pain wasn't enough to distract me. The tears I had kept locked behind my pale eyelids for so long, were finally free as they dripped slowly, forming small paths along my cheeks.

Did she really just call me Katrina? Did she want me dead instead of my sister? It made sense, after all. Katrina was a cheerleader, popular, and she could've made it as a singer in the big league. I, on the other hand, was considered an outcast among my classmates. I constantly worried my parents by not eating or sleeping. Black had become my favorite color, the night, my friend.

Instead of answering my mother, I shook my head and opened the door. The freezing cold rain from outside demanded its entrance into our car, but I ignored it, as I ignored my parents frustrated commands. I knew where I was going like the back of my hand. Ever since I found out my older sister committed suicide, most likely from the wooden bridge, it had become my sanctuary. Ironic, I know. I wanted to forget about Katrina and move on with my life, but I still found myself walking to the bridge without ever planning it. A lot of people said I was Katrina's clone now-a-days. I would just laugh, no matter how much it hurt.

But even they could tell how hollow my laughter was. And it wasn't just my laughter. As soon as the police discovered Katrina hadn't been murdered, but instead committed suicide, _I've_ been hollow. Katrina was more than a sister to me; she was my best friend. She was the only person I could trust enough to tell everything. That just made it hurt all the more. But what horrified me the _most_ was the fact that my parents hid the note. They _knew_ Katrina killed herself, but they still let the police figure it out themselves.

That was why I dubbed this bridge my favorite place to go. It was the only place Katrina felt near me; it was like the bridge was _filled_ with Katrina herself. And because of that, the tears that had first came slowly, were now streaming quickly down my cheeks, dripping off my chin.

When it became too much, I let myself fall. I ignored the dull pain in my side, and the throbbing pain in my knuckle. Instead, I focused on the pain, anger, fear, and every emotion in between. The emotional pain was worse than anything. That, mixed with the anger was what finally drove me insane.

Joining my tears, were my screams. Sometimes, I got enough strength to scream out words, like 'Katrina' or 'Why?' or my favorite: 'Fuck me.'

But apparently someone must've heard my screams, because I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder, acting comforting. But it was an act; it had to be. Everyone in this town knew Katrina, and everyone wanted her here, not me.

"Go away!" I tried to shout, but the command came out quiet, hoarse from my screaming.

"It ain't gonna happen, Sonny." A familiar voice retorted.

"Whatever, Aidan." I grumbled back.

Katrina had always had a crush on Aidan, and apparently he was crushing on her too. When Katrina went missing, he was always at our house, waiting by the phone with the rest of us. Eventually, he became something like my older brother.

"C'mon, Sonny, I'm gonna go bring you home now. I bet your parents are worried sick."

Ya? Well I bet they aren't. But how in the world would I explain that to him? "I just wanna stay here for a bit." It was the truth, just not the whole thing. I made a bit of an effort – the best I could muster at the moment – and sat up, leaning against the railing for support. How could emotions make a person so weak and tired?

He sat down next to me, staring at the other side of the bridge. We stayed like that for a bit, staring off into space while Katrina haunted our thoughts.

"I'm gonna miss her." Aidan whispered, breaking the silence.

I just nodded. If I started to talk about her again, I was sure I would break down again.

"I still just can't believe she's gone."

I nodded again, letting my eyes slide shut, hoping I would drift away and never have to open my eyes again.

Eventually, his babbling faded away, as did my consciousness.

†

I woke up in my normal bed, screaming, like usual. In every single dream I've had since Katrina was found dead, the diary was always in them, taunting me. Katrina had left her diary in my hands. I was now the 'proud' owner of a book _filled_ with her thoughts of suicide. Did you hear the sarcasm? I was pretty sure it was _dripping_ from my voice.

But I'd rather have the nightmares than actually read the book. I was pretty sure I had been horrible to her; she'd probably just complain about me. Hey, maybe she even blamed me. I wouldn't care. _I_ blamed me, and I was pretty sure my parents blamed me too.

I wasn't the best sister. I always threw things at her. Our parents paid more attention to me… But that was back then. Now, it felt like they wanted Katrina more than me. Not once did they ever ask me if _I_ was alright. They didn't think to ask me if _I_ was falling into the deep abyss known as depression because my sister killed herself. And since they never asked, I felt like they didn't _deserve_ to know.

Three months ago, we first heard Katrina was dead. They found her body, washed up on the edge of the river miles away, towns away. They said there wasn't a mark on her, just bruises. After they brought her to the morgue, they cut her open. An autopsy, they called it. I immediately didn't like it. The mortician told us her 'cause of death' was oxygen deprivation. He explained that she was conscious, so the oxygen in her cells excreted. Basically, it meant her oxygen levels lowered and her carbon dioxide levels rose until she suffocated. The water was in her lungs. After a lot more studying, the mortician announced it was suicide most likely. Besides the bruises, proven to be bruises from impact with the water and rocks below the surface, there were no other marks.

But below Katrina's surface lied years of agony. And in that black little book, she described the agony. Just knowing the book was in my night stand was bad enough, but being near it was pain itself. My mind wanted to read it; it wanted to see how much my sister really hated me. My heart said otherwise. It didn't want to read it, thinking it'd be too heartbreaking. But today, I was glad to be busy. Even if my sister's funeral was yesterday, I didn't want to look weak. It's stupid, I know, but it just bugs me to think her closest friends are going to school the next day, so why not me?

I already knew Aidan dropped me off at my house; he always did when I fell asleep hanging out with him. I also knew what was waiting for me downstairs. My parents were going to be furious. They probably saw Aidan deposit me on the bed.

It didn't bother me, Aidan being in my room. Like I said, he was an older brother. Besides, I'd never do something like that to Katrina.

After I got dressed – in the basic, average every day clothing: black skinny jeans, a silver ruffled top, and a stormy grey pair of heels – I grabbed my black elbow-length jacket and headed towards my window, tossing my over-the-shoulder backpack outside to the ground. It'd be better to sneak out my window then go through the front doors. My parents would kill me if I walked to them willingly. They were still probably fuming about the broken window in the car.

It wasn't hard to get from my second-story window to the ground. My sister used to sneak out all the time, and sometimes, she'd bring me with her. She even got me my own ladder. Of course, getting down a ladder in heels wasn't as easy as I thought. But I managed, ignoring how much the ladder swung back and forth. I really was afraid of heights; I just chose to never tell Katrina.

When I was at the last couple of rungs, I was _way_ too off balance. And my hands were sweaty – my parents donated _tons_ to the school, so I never had to go through PE. That, mixed with the fact I was already freaking out, made me scream as I fell backwards towards the ground that was only a few feet away. It still hurt, though.

I heard some laughing behind me, but didn't make a move to get up. I was too busy complaining about the short, but painful fall.

The laughter got closer, but I ignored it, thinking it was either my parents or Aidan.

"You all right there?" An unfamiliar male voice asked me. The voice sounded pleasant, a little bit concerned, and still filled to the brim with laughter.

He moved in front of me, offering me a tanned hand. I ignored his gesture and got up on my own, not wanting a new friend. Hell, I didn't want my _old_ friends.

He just looked at me oddly before shaking his head, returning his hand to his side.

"So…" He mumbled, looking around awkwardly. I hadn't even noticed the awkward silence settling in. _I_ had been busy scrutinizing him, trying to figure him out. I had to know if he was the cocky kind of guy, the shy guy, the athletic type, or something else. But it was weird. Usually it was easy to figure a guy out. They weren't as complex as girls. Sure, guys were cunning at times, but usually, they only had a couple things on their mind. At least, it was that way to me. All the guys _I_ knew still had finger wars – the kind of war where you made finger guns and hid behind a wall of textbooks, looking up now and then to 'shoot' your 'enemy'. The guys _I_ knew were immature. I just figure every guy was that way around my age.

He didn't look immature, though. His straight hair was a mixture of a very dark brown with a dirty blonde; the wispy bangs fell slightly into his eyes. I didn't know exactly how to describe his eyes. They were like an icy blue, reminding me of the winter time. His face was slightly tanned to a natural light brown shade. His chin was narrow, shaped like a 'V', curved slightly at the end. He was lithe, but still some-what muscled. And at the moment, his lips were curved in an arrogant smirk.

"What're you smiling at?" I asked rudely, crossing my arms.

"You were _so_ checking me out." He retorted, his smirk growing.

I just snorted. "Yeah… You keep telling yourself that, Lover Boy." With a roll of my eyes and a blind snatch at my shoulder backpack, I was off to my car.

I heard his disbelieving grumbling all the way to my cherry red convertible. Originally, it was going to be Katrina's Sweet Sixteen birthday present. But she was gone… And it was mine now.

Don't get me wrong. It was agonizing to be driving _her_ car. The only problem with walking to school was that it was a little over three miles away. And I don't do gym for a reason.

So walking was a _definite _no-no. I flinched, realizing I was talking like Katrina. She loved the fact her parents were rich enough to donate to the school. I hated it. Everyone at school expected me to be the fashionable, girly-girl, cheerleader in the school. They all _expected_ me to rule like my sister. And the only problem with that was the fact that I didn't _know_ how to be as good of a 'Queen' as Katrina. It just wasn't possible.

Sure, I liked fashion. I _loved_ shopping! But I'd much rather play Volleyball than cheer the volleyball players on. Besides, I absolutely sucked at cheerleading. At least in volleyball, all you had to do was move around. In cheerleading you had to move around _and_ remember those annoying rhyming cheers! I'd definitely take sports over cheerleading any day.

When I pulled out of the driveway, I saw the new kid standing in the same spot he was before, watching me in amusement. _Stalker…_

But that didn't matter. I was on my way to school… Without Katrina… Oh God.

Well, hell…. Here I come!


	3. IMPORTANT NOTE

So I'm back, and I decided to start rewriting some of my old fics. I will be rewriting them on a new account (Username is Thistle Anne Rose).

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**The FanFictions I will be continuing:**

_I Hate Everything About You_

Merlin – Rated: T – English – Hurt/Comfort/Drama – Not Slash

Camelot is a place where magic isn't illegal, but it isn't liked… Sorta like how homosexuals are treated by some people (which is TOTALLY wrong, by the way!). It's a place where people with magic are treated like scum beneath the "normal people's" shoes. Merlin Emrys, without a family, living on the streets, constantly being beaten half to death by people who pretend he isn't even human, and practically almost killed at every twist and turn, is such a person with magic. Arthur Pendragon, the literally famous boy whose father was one of the best actors in the country, lives with his father and half-sister Morgana, lives in a _huge_ mansion, who's _worshipped_ by his many friends, and is pretty used to seeing how people with magic are treated, is such a normal person. But, in a surprisingly miraculous turn of events, when his limo doesn't show up, he walks into a scene he sometimes wishes he could've stopped sooner. Taking a wrong turn into an alley, he sees a circle of people surrounding a figure. Of course, he _knows_ he should just walk away, but for some reason, he finds himself fighting back against the circle of people. And for some reason he just couldn't leave the pale, broken, magic-user in the alley to die… So Merlin unknowingly becomes Arthur's newest charity case.

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_Damned by Love_

Night World Series – Rated: T – English – Hurt/Comfort/Drama – Not Slash

Thistle Anne Rose is the average-every-day demon. She's got the fangs, the wings, and the attitude. She's an assassin for Hunter, killing Daybreakers day by day. But when she meets Drew, the one thing she promised she'd never do haunts her thoughts: Love.

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**Two New Stories I'm Starting**

_The Apprentice's Heart_

Harry Potter – Rated: T – English – Romance/Hurt/Comfort – Slash

Dumbledore, excited at the knowledge he'd have a chance to bring his biggest mistake to justice, missed half the Prophecy. The half that _would've_ informed him that the son of James and Lily Potter would be kidnapped by the Dark Lord and raised to take the throne next to him when he reached the age of eleven. The search is on for the missing Harry James Potter, while the boy himself is being raised by the Malfoy's – Tom Marvolo Riddle being too busy getting ready to take over the world. It took eight years to bring about the downfall of Dumbledore and the Side of Light, leaving Riddle two years to train his son – now named Harry Marvolo Riddle – and pass a few laws, essentially making life for Muggle-borns and Blood Traitors a hell-of-a-lot harder, even in Hogwarts. Of course, Harry's meant to stop it eventually, but it's up to Draco Malfoy to choose. In the end, as the prophecy said, Draco chooses whether or not Harry becomes the Savior or the Dark Lord's heir. Love or Lies? Truth or Betrayal? Darkness or Light?

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_Wings of the Eagles_

Harry Potter – Rated: T – English – Romance/Hurt/Comfort – Slash

Hogwarts is attacked, Dumbledore killed. Now, it's up to Harry, who Dumbledore named as the new leader of the Order of the Phoenix, to save both Hogwarts and the Wizarding World. Draco Malfoy, who's turned his back on Voldemort, along with his father, Lucius, starts an odd friendship with Harry. Battles are fought, people lost, love forms, and guilt rises. And in the end, maybe love just won't be enough….

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It will take me a while to rewrite the old fanfictions, and I plan on having at least five chapters for each before actually posting the story. Here's the link to my new profile:

http: / www .fanfiction. net /u /3076490/

~ Vivre Rire Amour ~

~ Live Laugh Love ~


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